


Never have I ever short stories

by Curious_Reader



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-07 01:15:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15897918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curious_Reader/pseuds/Curious_Reader
Summary: Originally posted on Tumblr. I asked if anyone would be interested in a "Never have I ever" fanfic exchange. Someone would ask a question anonymously or not, and I would answer either "yes, I have", or if I had not done the ask I would write a short story about it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> @underthewingsofthblackeagle asked “ Have you ever bought tulips while in Amsterdam?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @underthewingsofthblackeagle asked “ Have you ever bought tulips while in Amsterdam? 

Amsterdam had to have been the most beautiful city he had ever been to, it didn’t look real. Each street or canal looked like it belonged on the glossy side of a post card. He would have to bring her here sometime, and sometime soon. It was early spring now, but he could just picture her standing on a bridge with the golden colors of fall behind her as the tour boats floated by. The conference was thrust on him with such short notice, he had barely enough to rearrange work. That’s why Claire couldn’t make it, between work and the kids, it just wasn’t possible. So, the responsibility went from her to him, and he couldn’t really be upset about it. He just wished Gail could have come, but passports and work got in the way and he boarded the plane promising lots of pictures.

He turned down yet another narrow street, this time lined with farmers stands instead of the standard tourist traps he had just been surrounded by. Perusing the various produce, prepared food, and hand made knit items, he stopped at a wood workers booth and saw the perfect gift to bring home. The light wood had been drilled to loop some ribbon to support the ornament on a tree, and just below was the carved image of a small Dutch boy leaning in for a kiss with Tulips held behind his back. Joe had seen the rows and row of tulips for sale and just planted around, and had desperately wished he could bring some home, but knew there was no way they would live past the car ride to the airport. He hoped the many pictures as well as the small ornament would suffice until he could buy Gail her own in the fall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @but-little-she-is-fierce asked: “Have you ever hooked up/kissed a celebrity?“ and I have not. Though, my father, and brother have, and as a whole my family has known many famous people over the decades. It’s a product of where we all grew up. Again, per my own rules, here is a short un-edited story involving a celebrity kiss/hook-up. I hope you enjoy it!!!

Ian starred at his TV in absolute shock. A small part of his brain knew, should anyone walk in what they would see. Ian in nothing but his undershirt and boxers, jaw hanging open and the remnants of his fallen coffee soaking in to his socks. But he couldn’t care and had yet to figure out the mechanics behind pulling himself together after seeing her on the TV.

His morning had started like most, scruffy and shuffling out of his bed and into the kitchen for enough coffee to know his own name. TV turned on for noise as the pot filled. The only difference between today and every day before was he had been seriously considering toast, he was just about to pull down the bread when a name he hadn’t heard in years came out of the announcer’s voice and into his home. Bread forgotten, Ian had quickly brought his coffee into the living room and turned up the volume. Having just turned on the TV as he had made his way to the kitchen, he had no clue what had been on; but soon was engrossed in the latest in entertainment news. Apparently, Mary Stempleton, the lead singer of the incredibly popular band, The Second Mary, had been arrested the night before for charges of public drunkenness and solicitation. Mary Stempleton. Jesus, he hadn’t heard that name or even though of her in years. Shaking his head to bring him out of his shocked stupor, he chuckled a bit. He knew it wasn’t funny and knew he would feel bad and make amends during this week’s confession; but he just couldn’t help himself, Mary was just that kind of girl. When they were young and just starting to figure out being themselves, they had a very fast passed, passionate, and short-lived fling. Mary was always that bright presence in the room, she sang at concerts and danced, performed in every talent show, and tried out for any “big break” she could. How he had captured her attention, he would never know. They had flirted back and forth and snuck a few kisses and tentative touches, never getting too far. But finally, after a dance, she had pulled him behind the bleachers where the touches were no longer hesitant, and Ian was no longer a boy. When he had gotten home, he had told his cousin Fergus all about it, and couldn’t wait for Monday so he could see her again. Unfortunately, one of her many additions had called back and she was on her way to London, never to return to their school.

Ian had been heart broken and had vowed to swear off women. That had lasted him about two weeks, when he quite literally had bumped into someone on his way out of school. He name was Rachel Hunter, a transfer student from America. They dated throughout school and followed each other to university, and two weeks from this morning, she would follow him down the aisle.

Re-focusing on the screen, he turned off the TV. Ian had to chuckle, not many men he knew could claim to have ever met, let alone slept with a celebrity. He knew that could be a good pub story, and likely no one would believe him, but he’d never tell. That women plastered on most TVs was no longer the girl he had once known, she was a fleeting memory of his past. The front door clicked open and Ian’s chuckle turned into a full smile as his future came in asking for help with the groceries.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @abbydebeaupreposts asked: What a fabulous idea! Ok here goes mine: “Never have I ever been handcuffed.” Or if that doesn’t lead to a fic then “Never have I ever flirted with someone in church (temple,etc)" 
> 
> I have not done either of these. So, here is the first of the two fics from this ask and like the two before it, this is also not edited.
> 
> Just a small bit of warning for this one. it’s not really NSFW, but it’s still on the more adult side, nothing explicit or graphic, but implied. this also takes place in a church, so please proceed with that in mind, as I do not wish to offend anyone. 
> 
> hope you all enjoy!

She was going to Hell. Likely immediately too, she could see it now, the older church ladies would gasp in shock and the threshold would crumble because of the holy fire that would erupt when she walked through it. She sighed and decided there was nothing to be done about it, and really it had been Jamie’s fault, leaving her the way he did the other night; and for that, she would bring him into the sin he helped create in the backseat of her car.

Claire knew better of course, knew she should have avoided church this week. He would be there. He was always there, sitting several pews away from her on the left side. He had mentioned it to her before, especially when she had worn a certain dress or had fidgeted with her hair too often during mass. Normally though, it was never something Claire paid much attention to, never did anything to gain his attention. Today though? Today she would make him sweat and earn that blush for Wednesday’s confession.

Leaving her flat she knew she looked good, not too good as to raise suspicion, but enough to capture his attention immediately. She wore a red shirt dress that flared out at her hips with black heels, a dark red gem necklace that dripped down between her cleavage and finished it all off with her hair pinned up with loose curls falling down her neck from all sides. Pride and lust were her sins this week, she’d ask forgiveness later.

She knew the moment Jamie walked into the church. She felt his eyes on her, and it took everything in her not to turn around and acknowledge him. She could feel his eyes, knew he had yet to look at much past her. “and we’re off” is the last thought she had before the priest began his sermon. Thankfully (for her plan) it was warm out, and she delicately fanned herself, shifting the collar on her dress to get as much air to her skin as possible. She shivered then, put down her fan and followed the goosebumps from her chest to her neck, using her necklace as the trail marker. Her hand followed the necklace back down into her cleavage, where she appeared to be adjusting the buttons. She took a breath when the congregation was instructed to pick up the book of psalms and turned, bent over (towards the ever-present eyes of Jamie) picked up her book and began singing.

Now, despite all her planning Claire hadn’t considered just what all of this would to her. The silent seduction was wreaking havoc on her just as much as it was Jamie. One look in his direction during the Eucharist and she was no longer feigning heavy breathing and a need to fan herself. His eyes were the darkest she’d ever seen and as she walked past his pew towards her own she caught the quick motion of his tongue flicking out against his lips, that nearly had her loosing her footing. Talking up her seat once more she knelt sent a silent prayer of forgiveness and while down on her knees she purposefully parted her lips and liked her upper lip. She smirked just a bit when a few rows a way someone seemed to have a coughing fit.

Shaking Father McGovern’s hand, she thanked him for a beautiful sermon and made her way towards her car in the back lot behind the church. She hadn’t looked for or seen Jamie since walking back to her pew, when the priest was done she had collected her things and stood in the receiving line. She was surprised he didn’t approach her, but assumed he took the time to collect himself much like she did. Pulling out her keys to unlock her car, she stopped dead. Jamie was leaning on her driver’s side door, looking none too pleased. When she tried to say something, he shook his head “no” and moved from her door. She unlocked the car and they both climbed in. Claire held her breath and turned her key bringing the car to life and moving out of the parking lot. They were silent the entire drive to her flat, but when they pulled up to her building Jamie opened the door and said “time for your penance, Claire”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @abbydebeaupreposts asked: What a fabulous idea! Ok here goes mine: “Never have I ever been handcuffed.” Or if that doesn’t lead to a fic then “Never have I ever flirted with someone in church (temple,etc)“ 
> 
> You’ve already gotten the church, and as I haven’t ever been handcuffed, here is the handcuffs. 
> 
> Again some warning: some of the subject matter in the story could be categorized as NSFW. It is an adult theme, please keep that in mind. 
> 
> I do not own Pure Romance, but have been to some of there parties. 
> 
> Same as before, this has not been edited. However, I hope you enjoy it!

Dddon’t worry, we can st ststop if you want.

He shook his head no, and she clicked closed the handcuffs.

She had been excited and concerned the whole way home from Louise’s house, she had been reluctant to go in the first place, but Claire has said she would be there and it was all in good fun. Trusting Claire had been the easiest part of the afternoon, Mary had never been to what had been affectionally called a fuck-wear party before and knew that with each new item or demonstration she was turning a deep shade of tomato red from head to toe. True to her word though, Claire had shown up and immediately was sucked into a lively conversation with both Louise and Geillis, whom Mary knew as well from the hospital. She did her best to keep to herself, nibble on a few of the offered snacks and just try and get her pulse under control.

Eventually, everyone had mingled and were seated around the living room quietly chatting. Claire had found her, the to had grown quite close over the last few months and she was beginning to calm down and enjoy herself. Mary was just answering Claire’s question about her weekend up to Alex’s family home in the Lake district when a loud crack silenced the room.

Louise stood in front of the fireplace with what looked to be a bedazzled riding crop in her hand, and a large smile on her face. Mary assumed that the smile was supposed to be comforting and exude a sense of fun and excitement. Unfortunately, to her it just fed the ball of unease and worry in her stomach. She was reminded of her days in school and having to speak in front of the class, though to be fair, that could be because her teacher had always carried a wooden pointer that she liked to crack on the desks of students who weren’t paying attention. Claire must of sense the sudden unease and placed a calming hand on her arm.

“Louise is all bark and very little bite. But, if you’re uncomfortable we can leave, no harm, no foul. I promise.”

“Nno, that’s all right. Ttthank you, though.”

“Well, if you’re sure, if you change your mind, let me know. It should be fun though, I’ve been to one of these before and it can be fun, silly even. Besides, you never know, maybe you’ll find something the peaks your interest.”

Before Mary could even try to respond Louise had completed her welcome speech and the Pure Romance saleswomen (also known as Geillis) was well into massage oils and how they could be used. The ideas behind the items being passed around were not something Mary had never thought about, she even owned a few of the items. It was the public aspect that put her on edge. She was much more suited for online shopping. Online allowed her to blush in private, but still read through the FAQs and comparison shop without half her coworkers knowing what she did and did not look for in her toys. A pleasantly unexpected perk though was the questions being asked. Because the room was filled with medical professionals, the questions were more thought out and practical than she would have ever gotten on an online forum. She also noticed several of the other ladies in the room blush a bit and nervously chuckle as well. She would be alright.

Several hours, two plates of food and countless drinks later Mary was in a deep discussion with Claire and Geillis on the pros and cons between silicon, metal, or glass for the available selection of dildos and personal massagers. Regardless of knowing it was because of the alcohol in her system, Mary was beyond please to find that she didn’t blush and had good opinions to add to the conversation. However, it was time to go. She said her good-byes and collected her things. By the door, Louise has set up a goody bag table and had previously instructed everyone to take one and have a good night! As she made her way down the street to her flat, Mary looked in the bag, saw a set of fur-lined handcuffs and a travel size bottle of birthday cake flavored lubricant. Louise was right, she would have a good night tonight, and so would Alex.

With the final click of the last cuff Mary squeezed some of the lube into her hand and generously applied it on to Alex. The metal rattled against her bedframe as he jerked at her touch.

“Mmmary!”

She smiled, told him not to move again and made her way down to eat her cake


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @takemeawaytocamelot asked: Never have I ever been kissed in the rain. (It's that one thing I've been obsessed with since I was little. I, personally, very much want to be kissed in the pouring rain, because *sigh* romantic!!!!)
> 
> And her ask wins so far with the longest word count today!

Christ the pub was crowded tonight! Though, he supposed it made sense, it had been raining like Noah would be arriving for days. He couldn’t be too mad though, it was Scotland after all, but still… He had been home now for two weeks and after a year and a half in Afghanistan he had gotten rather used to the heat and the sand, and right now he would kill for even an hour of sunshine. Limping towards the end of the bar, he submitted that he’d have to get used to his homeland once more and just put on his big boy kilt and deal with it. He was a soldier and a Scot for that matter, he was mad of stiffer stuff, right?

Ian plunked down at the end of the bar and signaled to the bar tender for a pint. With his mood and the crowd, he should have ordered two at least so he wouldn’t have to wait once he had drained this one, but the bar tender was too busy to question his two fingers and slid a single pint down to him. He shrugged off his coat and took a long pull from his beer. And suddenly his body relaxed, and his mind was occupied with memories. Jamie and Murtagh and Jenny used to frequent bars just like this back home. Back before the war and before they should even be in such places. He would laugh as Jamie turned six different shades of red at whatever scandalous thing the most recent girl whispered into his ear. Murtagh would always grump and try to act stern but fared well enough when it came to the lasses, far better (he just knew) than the older man ever let on to his friends and Godchildren. And then there was Jenny…

God Jenny, He hadn’t seen her since he shipped off. He knew it was his own fault. He should and could have gone to see her, she would have gotten word of his unit, that they were safe. If not for him, then definitely for Jamie. His unit had been assumed lost of injured. But they hadn’t been, they had just gone dark for their own safety, or as much as could be managed. They had lost some, Jamie was still (last he had heard) in Germany getting his back treated, and he had lost a leg, but he was alive. And there it was, the glaring reason he had been too chicken shit to bring his sorry ass home and tell her his heart, he was hiding. To be fair he thought, it wasn’t just hiding from Jenny, but from God too. When his unit had been attacked he had made a promise to God that if he made it through this he would march right home, pull her into his arms, kiss her, and then ask her to be his for the rest of his life.

But that was before. Back when he was a whole man and could provide for her. Now though, no he didn’t think he could offer her squat and he would never lay that all on Jenny. No, she deserved a whole man, someone who could giver her everything, and that just wasn’t him, not anymore.

Ian flagged down the bar tender again and this time made sure he understood two beers and two fingers of whisky. Ian had no plans of being sober tonight and wanted to make damn certain that at least this one wish was granted. A hen night chose the exact moment his drinks were delivered to make their loud and soaked appearance. He sighed assuming that 10 more people really couldn’t make that much of a difference in the volume of the pub, and really how could he begrudge them a good time?

The very second hs thought ended he realized he recognized one of the party, and not just anyone, but the bride. Mary McBride, soon to be McNab stood in the middle of the large group, cock crown, veil, and all. All breath left his body, knowing with 100% certainty if Mary was the bride in the hen party, Jenny was close by. They had been friends since diapers and play dates. There was no world where Jenny Fraser would miss this. None. He had to leave, and he had to do it now.

Ian slammed his whisky and chugged his beers, fishing more than enough money out of his pocket and on the bar, he stood and went to make a swift break for it. Unfortunately, Ian forgot about his prosthetic and over compensated, and down he went. The bar went silent and he wished for death like never before. Those by the bar helped him up, the bar tender called a cab, and he was ordered to stay put. Sitting back on his stool he assumed the busyness of the bar would distract from the fallen man at the bar and he dropped his head and waited for the cab.

The fates though, were never that kind to the young Murray, and within moment he felt a hand on his shoulder; turning his head he was met with the sad, stunningly blue eyes of Janet Fraser, and he sighed.

“Hey Jenny.”

She didn’t say anything, just shook her head and tightened her lips in an obvious attempt to quell the tears.

He saw it and just could not be there anymore. Coward was never a word associated with Ian, but in this moment, if you had looked the word up in the dictionary you would see his photo. He grabbed his coat and bolted towards the door, cab be damned.

The pub door slammed behind him and the rain pelted his skin, he looked right then left and began walking towards his short term flat.

He didn’t hear the pub door open behind him.

He didn’t hear his name being called.

He didn’t notice the hand on his arm.

He did notice being turned around.

He did hear her voice break.

“Yer a damn fool Ian Murray and God am I glad you’re home.”

He did feel her lips against his.

He didn’t notice the world falling away.


End file.
